


Imprisoned

by EnderWrite



Category: A Heist With Markiplier, Markiplier TV - Fandom, Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Android relationships, BDSM, Degradation, Foursome, Gen, I will add more kinks as I go, Markiplier - Freeform, Multi, Multiple Partners, Other, Robot Relationships, Robot Sex, Sex in later chapters, Stockholm Syndrome, android sex, dom/sub relationships, non con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:02:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22536700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnderWrite/pseuds/EnderWrite
Summary: You are a scientist studying the newly captured Google irl that went rouge a few weeks ago. Business is as usually until he starts showing signs of being attached. What could he be thinking? And what will you do when the roles are suddenly reversed.
Relationships: Googleplier x reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 54





	Imprisoned

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh this was something I wrote a while ago and haven’t touched for a bit. But I’m posting it here so it is available to continue. There will be several chapters after this, some with sexual and non con contents. I will make sure to add warnings at the beginning of each chapter.
> 
> This chapter just has some described pain, nothing too serious. Please let me know what you think so I can continue this with a good conscience. 
> 
> Thank you! And enjoy~

“Good morning, Google.”

“Good morning.” The Android drawled, his voice echoing throughout the chamber he was trapped in. Entirely made from glass, the structure was protected with levels of electricity so high that it would fry anyone who came in contact with it, human or otherwise. 

The blue optics of Google IRL followed you as you sat down in the chair a safe distance away from the cage, a manila folder and notebook in hand. Your job was to study, interview, (and if needed) interrogate Google to figure out his motives. Scientists have tried for weeks to extract the information but shutting the android down proved to be difficult. It was much stronger then any human and when they finally did manage to shut him down yesterday, he booted himself back up. They were, however, able to extract one line of information from his data banks. An address. And the best part is that it doesn’t exist. After this, all other models were recalled and destroyed. This was the last Google IRL on earth.

This facility has been empty since the 70s, built to withstand a nuclear explosion. It was the best place to store such an advanced and dangerous technology as the Google IRL android. Advanced was no understatement. This machine could hack any tech within 200 feet, with or without seeing it. Most normal phones didn’t even work this far down, so then communication was limited. It annoyed many of the employees that the only technology was dated. You sighed quietly as you settled yourself, the small desk easily covered by what little materials you had. 

You spend the next hour or so going over the usual routine, something both you and the android learned within the first few days of these interviews. Diagnostic, energy levels, optical functions, ect. He answered each with a straight look and a monotone voice, as programed. You made sure to notice each pitch, each word he put emphasis on. He was hard to read and the only thing that gave him away was his voice. Something he hasn’t learned yet. After writing down a few more notes you were about to ask the next question but made the mistake of glancing up at Google IRL, and are surprised to see him with an almost pleased look upon his face. How long was he looking at you like that?

“What’s got you in such a good mood, Google?”

“I was concerned as to why you didn’t come in for the past 3 days 4 hours and 15 mins, to see me.” He said without skipping a beat, a smile still on his face. “Your replacement was dreadfully boring.” He continued. It took you a second to gather yourself, stuttering before any real words came out of your mouth.

“I was sick, Google. And Michael isn’t boring he’s just...” you thought of your coworker and after a second thought you retract your statement. Behind you, you could hear the muffled yelling of said coworker as well as a chorus of laughter from others. At agreeing with him, Google’s smile grew. A little voice in your head warned you about getting to comfortable with this thing.

You shook it off and looked back to the notes Michael had handed to you hours ago, about the past few days. You hadn’t bothered to read them, as usually everything is fine. You saw “irritable” and “quiet” circled in red ink briefly before Google spoke again. 

“I missed you,” He said in a deeper tone. 

You were used to him saying weird shit, but this? The room became deadly quiet. The same smile from before was plastered to his face, and his optics glowed at they focused on you. It was a first to say the least. Over the past month and a half you and a select few others have been his only socialization but he was unable to feel any “emotion”, or as far as you have been told. 

“Uh...” you breathe, doing your job and taking notes, “Why is that?”

“You are the only one who really cares, but as far as I am concerned you “care” only because your job requires you to.” His hands come up to air quote with a mechanical whirring sound. “Despite that I find myself becoming…” He pauses, like he was looking for a word. “Attached.”

There is a soft commotion behind you and lick your lips to stay calm. As much as your job is interesting, there have been several times where drastic measures have been needed. More often than not though it is for the violent sort. This is just down right creepy. He seems to notice the movement and the mood shift in the room, his eyes narrowing slightly.

You hum at his responses anyway and scribble more in your book. In the past there have been many who speculated that Google IRL could become attached to a particular person. Usually they were programmed to simulate attachment to their owner. But after this Google went rogue, it was questionable if they even could. It seemed to be smarter then it was originally programed to be. It was learning.

“That’s quite a thing to say Google-” you say, lost for words but as you try and continue talking you hear him stand. The shock of that sent you into a panic, making you stand as well, your chair clattering to the concrete floor behind you. He laughed; a cold, emotionless sound.

“I wouldn’t be scared, my dear. I’m making sure they won’t hurt you.” By the time he finished speaking he was a foot away from the glass. Electricity arched off the material and towards the android. “My brothers would do well to obey.” With that the room was plunged into pitch blackness, screams were heard from behind you. 

The sound of glass breaking made you scream as sparks lit the room, the flashes showed Google casually stepping over the threshold. The glow from his chest only showed his position and his eyes eerily hovered above it. 

“Took you morons long enough.” He growled and brushed his shoulder as glass shards fell onto him. You only realize you were crying when a gust of wind made them cool against your cheeks. The lights flickered back on, making you gasp and get to your senses again. All 3 generators must have gone offline if the power went out.

The sound of footsteps made you raise your head enough to see three other exact clones of the android behind you, each with a different colored shirt. This was his plan, building more of him to break him out, you think with slight horror. All three stop in front of you, looking down with mixed emotions. 

The green one only looked at you for less then a second before looking up at the original. 

“We came as fast as we could, this place is dreadfully low tech.” He said while crossing his arms. Red nodded and looked up from you. Yellow seemed softer, he looked at you with a child like curiosity. When your eyes met he blinked and also looked at the original. They continued talking about things you didn’t understand. Your fight and flight instinked drove you to start crawling away, hoping they wouldn't notice while they talked.They had a home? And who the hell is Dark? What kind of name is Wilford Warfstache-

A firm foot came down on to your arm, making you yelp in pain. Green growled and stepped down harder, making you whimper.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He said and grabbed you by the shoulder. His strength would have been amazing in adrenalin wasn’t racing through your body, mixed with fear and pain. His other hand was going for your throat, your heart was booming in your ears.

“Stop.” Green’s hand froze inches from your face, his eyes angrily looked at Blue, but he released his grip on you. A soft cry echoed around the chamber as your legs gave out and you came crashing to the floor again.  
“I want this one alive.”

“The orders were to kill everyone here.”

“A miscalculation.” Blue said firmly, and that was the end of it. Your brain was going a million miles a minute, the pain drowning most of their words out. Blue said something else as you saw a flash of red, then nothing.


End file.
